


The Shop Brat Life- Thanksgiving

by Princesszellie



Series: The Shop Brat Life [13]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Carshop!Au, Gen, Holidays, mechanic!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:39:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1964106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princesszellie/pseuds/Princesszellie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No family road trip is without its ups and downs...OR- No really, this is the Thanksgiving from HELL....</p>
<p> <br/>Part 13/? of the Shop Brat Life series of one shots based on my life as the boss's kid at a large car dealership.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shop Brat Life- Thanksgiving

It was ungodly cold for November Herc thought as he started the car to let it warm up. There were several inches of snow on the ground- it looked more like Christmas Day than Thanksgiving morning. It was _freezing._ He went back inside to start carting the baggage his wife had piled up in the kitchen to the trunk. It was amazing how much shit she and Chuck had packed for a weekend away, and he didn’t want to think about why Max’s bag was so heavy.

He got all the cargo loaded; now he just had to get the humans and canine in the car. Angela was great at dragging her heels when having to go visit her in-laws, but Herc was anxious to get on the road. With the holiday traffic and the already poor weather conditions he was anticipating a longer drive.

“Come on!” He shouted in the front door.

“Calm down,” Angela said as she put on her coat. “Chuck just has to take Max to pee.”

Herc sighed, rolled his eyes and went to usher his son and the dog into the car. He was in such a fluster after having to clear the snow off the car for the _third_ time that he neglected to do his usual obsessive preflight walk around.

At first no one noticed the sound- between Chuck’s backseat bitching, and Max excited barks at being in the good car, there was no way to hear it. Once they all settled down a few miles later the odd clunking became a bit more obvious.

“What is that sound?” Angela asked aloud after they had all sat in silence, each appraising the sound for themselves.

Herc had been listening the longest to the clucking sound coming from the front right wheel well. “Maybe there’s just some snow stuck up in there. I’ll kick it out when we get to the gas station.”

Another couple miles closer to town and the sound got worse, and now it was affecting the handling of the car. Herc was concerned but he kept it to himself, playing it off as normal so Angela wouldn’t freak out- like she always did. By the time they reached the gas station in town there was no hiding it and the car was damn near un-drivable.

They all tumbled out of the car to look. “….Son of a bitch…” Herc swore loudly. The front right tire was not only flat, but flat as physically possible and had come completely off the rim. They had been driving on the steel wheel the last couple of miles.

The Hansen Family stood in silence in the snow staring at the car.

“What are we going to do?” Angela asked her husband, her eyes wide with fear.

“I’m going to call a tow for this piece of shit, then I’m going to go get Striker.” Herc answered fumbling for his phone with mittened hands.

“How!?” his wife pressed. Herc waved her off and went inside the convenience store to make his calls in some relative warmth…and really to be away from the inevitable nagging. He had his under control…or would….soon.

A few minutes later he came out, a bundled up stranger walking beside him. “Okay here’s the deal…they are coming and towing the demo to the dealership…and not on my dime either.” He displayed a small smirk of triumph over holiday rates.

“Well how are you going to get Striker? Did you call your brother?” Angela crossed her arms over her chest for warmth.

“Scott’s already there,” Herc told her with some undisguised bitterness, “This fine gentleman has offered to run me back up the hill to get the junker.” Angela was about to lob some protest, but he cut her off, “It will be ten minutes tops. Just hang tight and feel free to drain the tank running the heat.”

She kept up the death glare right until he got into the strangers ratty looking SUV and disappeared back in the direction of the house. She was _pissed_ at him, so pissed in fact, that she wasn’t sure that if the ‘Good Samaritan’ turned out to be some sort of cannibalistic Hill People she would be all that upset. Herc could make some seriously questionable decisions in a crisis and she had the gut feeling this was one of them. God knew she would rather just stay home instead of driving two plus hours to her in laws in this weather.

True to his word Herc wasn’t gone very long. Just about the time Chuck had given up whining that his stomach hurt, he was hungry and he was cold, Striker pulled into the parking lot. They shuffled all their belongings from the demo to Striker and after Herc scribbled a quick note on an old napkin detailing what he wanted done Monday morning they were ready to hit the road- this time for real.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. The weather cleared up the farther away from their corner of the world they went (as it often did), the traffic was heavy but kept them moving. Chuck enjoyed having the larger backseat in Striker to stretch out on, but he could live without the strange carsickness he was experiencing. He and Max slept the whole way over the hills and through the woods to Grandmothers house; Herc and Angela rode in a tense silence.

…

Friday morning found Herc and Angela out hitting the Black Friday sales, stocking up for Christmas. They had left poor Charlie at home in bed, sick with stomach flu of some sort, under the tender care of Tess. He never failed to get sick on holiday breaks. It was just as well as he would only have slowed them down. They were professionals at this.

They ended their shopping day a city over from where Herc’s parents lived, having a nice dinner out just the two of them- which was quite a treat in itself. The sun was just beginning to set as they walked back to the car with their final purchases of the day.

It was getting cold so while Herc worked on stuffing the bags in the very full trunk, Angela started Striker to get it warmed up. The engine had only been running two or three minutes when there was a horrendous _squeal- grind-_ _thump_ and it cut out entirely.

Angela let out a squawk of surprise and horror and Herc came flying around from the back. “What did you do!?” he accused without thinking.

“I didn’t do anything! I just started it! And then it exploded!!” Angela shrieked back at him from inside the cabin.

Herc frowned, yanked the hood release lever and opened Strikers hood none too gently. A huge rush of steam and the smell of singed rubber assaulted him instantly and made him stagger back. Oh fuck. Shit that wasn’t smart on his part. He waited for it to disperse then peered down into the engine. Everything was soaking wet and dripping.

“Oh for the love of Christ,” He swore kicking the bumper hard, “You piece of shit! Are you kidding me right now!?”

Angela had gotten out now and stood beside him but at a safe distance, “What is it?”

“God damn water pump blew.” This was followed another long stream of cursing as he rummaged every pocket on his person for his phone. In the end he had to use Angela’s as his was conveniently MIA adding to his furry.

First he called Scott, who said he couldn’t come help because he was out with friends- it was like high school all over again. That set Herc off further. Fine, if his good for nothing pseudo-mechanic brother wouldn’t help him he would do it himself. Stripping off his jacket and flinging it in Angela’s direction he rolled up his sleeves and immersed himself in the still steaming engine.

Thirty freezing minutes later it was Angela who called her in laws house and asked for help since her husband was being too bullheaded to do so himself. Herc had a good chunk of the water pump tore out by the time his parents arrived. His shirt was soaked to the shoulders, and his fingers were painfully frozen.

“What are you doing Hercules?” His head snapped up at the tone in his mother’s voice. God damn it, why were they here!?

He straightened up and flexed his fingers wincing, “Just seeing what I could do, since Scotty was nowhere to be found….”

Tess tutted, “Now now Herc….”

Chuck had come along for the ride, and now stood peering into the engine next to his father. “What are you gonna do with her now Dad?” he asked with concern. His fever flushed cheeks lent a particularly tragic look to his face.

Herc sighed, “I’m gonna have to call her a tow to whatever shop they think can fix it first thing tomorrow…..” He let the hood fall shut with a tremendous bang. “And I’m gonna probably pay out the ass for it.” That was added darkly under his breath. God he freaking _hated_ sending one of his cars to an unknown shop. It just _galled_ him on so many levels- but mostly because of the money. Bad work he could have undone in a heartbeat by _his_ people, but once you paid full price for it just became the seventh level of hell.

It felt like déjà vu to move their bags from the derelict vehicle to the rescue, only this time it was a serious concern about all of the people and bags fitting. Herc’s parents had bought some stupid little sub compact import ( _against_ his will and warnings) and it was a tight fit for four adults and one sub-adult. Thank god they had left the dog at the house.

“Will Striker be okay tonight?” Chuck asked from his spot squeezed in between his Mother and Grandmother.

Herc rolled his eyes, which thankfully Charlie couldn’t see, “Yeah, she’ll be fine. Their gonna pick it up soon I promise.” Honestly Herc was so angry with it he could care less if someone came and chop shopped it right there- he would only regret not being able to watch.

That seemed to mollify Chuck, who lay down in Angela’s lap and let her fuss over him. He still felt like death, and Grandpa’s driving hadn’t done anything to help that. He never wanted a car ride like that again. He just wanted to go _home_ and be in his own bed.

It was another whole day before any of them got to sleep in their own beds, as Striker’s repair took a little longer than expected. Herc liked to think it was because the little podunk shop was filled with incompetents- _not_ because he had made the whole thing worse by tearing it apart in his fit of rage. Nope. That was his story and he would take it to his grave, and the Becket’s- because seriously this place was dodgy as shit.

The ride home was totally mundane, but of course it would be. Everything that could go wrong already had- but Scott was following them in his truck, just in case. Monday morning the Hansen Family automobile misadventures were the talk of the shop; and neither Becket found anything wrong with the repairs done to Striker, but they were too cowardly to tell the Boss that, so they made something up. It was back to business as usual.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, yeah. This was my families Thanksgiving from Hell. Blew a tire on the demo on the way into town, my dad got a very kind total stranger to give him a ride back up our unploughed roads. My mom, sis and i sat and FROZE in the Buick with a very very unhappy cat who hated the car. The nice man wouldn't even take the money my dad offered him, just wished us a safe trip. Ha. Serenity came to the rescue, until she betrayed us too. My parents were out black Friday shopping when she blew her water pump. My grandparents dragged us along on the rescue operation. Dad hated having her fixed at a strange shop. I'm pretty sure that was one of the last long distance trips Serenity made- that might have been what got her put on the 'one hour away from the house' ban. That also may have been the last time we took the cat. :P
> 
> We will NEVER forget that Thanksgiving trip, it haunts even now. Good times, good times.


End file.
